


Scribblings & Doggeral

by posingasme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 14:57:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3900475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/posingasme/pseuds/posingasme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just as the title says, this is a place for random things I write that share the Supernatural theme. Many of them I wrote for Tumblr, etc., and just collected here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Poor Castiel

I have a jar where I keep all my laughter and joy, and I've capped it tightly to prevent any spillage, since no one has ever given me permission to feel those things, and yet I've been asked to feel my heart eat its own flesh inside its cage, so that I'll do, again and again, until someone asks something else of me. Please ask something else of me. I'm always happy to bleed for one who would never ask, but I'm content to bleed for one who would. Please ask something else of me. But don't tell me to smile.


	2. TRAIN Connection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Supernaturalapocalypse on Tumblr was saying s/he ships everything, and as an example, s/he said Tractor Angel/Cain, which my brain immediately turned into Train and...here's your fic.

The tractor would only go so fast. And this vessel was unwieldy. Tractiel knew he had one chance at getting to Dean Winchester, and this was it. The train pulled out of the station, and Tractiel sighed through borrowed lungs. If only flying were an option.

He had never taken a vessel before, and had been fortunate to locate one at a moment's notice. Many angels had not been so lucky, he knew.

"Castiel. This was you," he grumbled to himself. Before going offline, Castiel's voice had flailed out across the Heavens, but it had meant nothing, just a scream of misery, and the next moment, they were all falling. So it was clear who was to blame. Castiel had messed up again. So when he had heard Dean Winchester praying, he had done everything he could. Tractiel had to be the one to reach him first.

"Castiel. That's an angel's moniker," an interesting voice muttered beside him.

Tractiel looked up. There was a bearded man on the train, reading a book about beekeeping. He snorted to himself. Bees. Castiel had gone on about bees at times. Tractiel was not a member of Castiel's elite garrison, but the seraph's thoughts had been sporadically transmitted to the rest of them in an unnerving way. Fortunately, Tractiel had not had nerves at the time.

"You sound angry, friend."

"I'm quite angry. Friend," he added.

"This angel buddy of yours messed something up?"

He frowned at the man with the gray beard. "He messed everything up," he corrected.

"I'm Joe Cain, by the way."

"I'm..." Who was he?

"You've forgotten?"

"I'm John. John Deere."

Joe Cain's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

Tractiel narrowed his gaze. "Of course, really. You have...very distinctive eyes for a human. Did you know that?"

Joe Cain's smile widened. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"Not even a little."

"Right. Where you headed?"

"End of the line," he murmured.

Joe Cain smiled and winked. "Me too. And that's a long way off. So let's get comfortable and get to know one another."

Tractiel thought he might like that. He might like that very, very much.


	3. Spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Imagine your icon making a huge pot of spaghetti and meatballs and dropping it on the floor and curling up into a ball of defeat on the floor and crying"
> 
> My Tumblr icon is Dean Smith doing a face palm. So here you go.

Poor Dean Smith. Nothing is going right for him this week. His Prius was keyed. Sam Wessen is trying to get him to take time off to go investigate a sketchy old barn somewhere. And some guy named Garth won’t stop calling his phone and saying they need to talk, but never leaves a good phone number and is calling from a pay phone, and it’s starting to freak him out. Adler is riding his ass about his sales plummeting. He’s put in eighty hours at the office, and it isn’t even Friday yet. And he just remembered it was open enrollment and he’s got to make his decision about his health and dental plan by tomorrow, or he loses his coverage. 

He just wanted some carbs. It’s not too much to ask, just one night of carbs after all this time of being good. Hell, he wasn’t even going to have a beer with it, just some wine. And they’re whole wheat and the meatballs are turkey, and the sauce is organic, and dammit, he just wanted some damn carbs! 

When Wessen came over and let himself into the apartment, he found Smith sitting beside a pile of spaghetti on the floor, his elbows on his knees and face in his hands, weeping. There’s a splatter on his trousers, and that stain is not coming out of that expensive button-down shirt. He sighed and crouched on his heels nearby. “Dean?”

“Sam, I think we should go find that thing in the barn. And if it doesn’t kill us, let’s go be hunters.”

“What about health and dental?” he reminded him with a soft, teasing grin.

“If this poltergeist thing doesn’t kill us, I’ll worry about it another day.”

“It’s a djinn. But okay.”

Smith looked up from his hands. “I’m going to need different clothes for this.”

Wessen nodded. “Yup.”

He sighed at the mess on the floor. “And dinner. I bet hunting burns a lot of carbs.”

“Probably.”

Smith lifted himself out of his nervous breakdown and onto his feet with a little help from his friend. “Then you’re getting me some pie.”

Wessen grinned at him. “You got it, brother.”


	4. Cherry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The image prompt was fresh cherries.

It’s rare that Sam can talk him into fresh food, even now. He’s a stubborn ass. Even now. But what Dean couldn’t see…at least in this case, it wouldn’t hurt him. 

He spooned a bit of the pie gently onto Dean’s bowl. He could see the foggy green eyes questioning him, but he didn’t respond. Dean had very little left to look forward to in these last hours. Let him wonder. Sam moved the spoon into his brother’s hand, and held it a moment before he was sure about Dean’s dexterity. Then he let go and sat back to see if it had all been worth the trouble. 

When the first bite was delivered, the sightless eyes closed happily, and Sam sighed with relief. Dean couldn’t speak now, of course. But he didn’t have to. Sam knew he had done well. He let his brother eat in peace. There was nothing more to say between them. It had all been said a thousand times. Just as Dean had said all those years ago, while standing over yet another grave of yet another loved one, when the time came, no matter what, they were good. 

They were good.


	5. Sam Freaking Winchester

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> S12 Spoilers

Sam didn't know if he should be grateful to have the Colt back or angry that it went missing in the first place. Apparently Crowley gave it to the sadistic fisherman Prince of Hell as a fealty gift, and Mary stole it and...Anyway, it was back in his hands. He had put a bullet into the alpha vamp. That Colt had gone full circle, since they first heard about it. That was the day he and Dean had learned that vampires weren't as extinct as they had thought, the day John showed up to get his hands on the Colt. Since then, they had tangled with so many fangs that Sam had lost count. His brother had even become one for a time. Gordon Walker had gone from hunting them to hunting Sam, then being one and hunting Sam. Sam had saved vampires and saved people from vampires, and even helped save a girl who had lived among them, and had watched his brother seem to replace him with one. He had captured the alpha with the Campbells, worked with him against the Leviathans, and now he had used the Colt to destroy him. Full circle. 

He would hand the Colt to Dean. Dean had used it to kill the thing that killed their parents, and that made it his. But for just a minute, Sam had held it, and ended the line of vampires where it began, and, damn it felt good to be Sam freaking Winchester. Just for a minute.


End file.
